Red Thread
by NyxSchuyler
Summary: Sebastian realizes that an old contract had not disappeared. Due to his proud morals, he leaves Ciel in order to rejoin his last master in the future. That very master being one of Aizen's loyal pets... AU. Many pairings. Ratings may go up.
1. Confusion

He was something born from darkness; that darkness being an illusion of itself down in Hell. He had also become unbearably… what was the human word for it…? Ah, yes… _homesick._ He couldn't recall what his actual form was since he had first begun his contract with Ciel Phantomhive either. He did not want to continue carrying the former Phantomhive master's face. He did not want to be the one that made Ciel bitter just by staring at him too long.

Baptized as Sebastian Michaelis for many years, he had _also_ forgotten his actual name, as well. It should have been nothing but an annoyance, for he had other business for Ciel to attend to… but…

As Sebastian mounted the carriage for Ciel's trip to Winchester, an old visage of the last family he had ended up with fluttered through his mind. He shook it off just as he snapped the reins to send the horses on a slow trot.

No… only _Ciel _was his past, present and future now. Sebastian had no time to be troubling himself with old recollections. Besides… their contract had to be _burned _by now. He had devoured his former master's soul! Everything physically relating to that family was _gone_. There was nothing left but memories of them that would continually give him a headache.

In fact, he was actually receiving one at that moment-

The black stallions came to a sudden halt in the middle of the pathway. From within the carriage, Ciel Phantomhive cocked his head in confusion and proceeded to exit the stagecoach. "Really…!" He muttered as he hopped outside and walked around to see his butler. "Has he spotted another cat in the road or something…?" The boy paused when he spotted his demon butler clutching his head in what appeared to be pain.

Ciel flinched only slightly by the sight. It was quite peculiar seeing him in such a pitiful state. "What a disgrace to see a demon fall so low." He sighed, as his butler shot him a cold stare between the cracks of his fingers. "But then again, I'm not sure what lies beneath Hell; perhaps _shame?" _

"My Lord," Sebastian began, struggling to keep his voice leveled. "It is only but a minor problem. Now, may you please return back inside-" Ciel waved his words away as though they were irritating insects. "Don't trouble yourself, fool. I won't risk an injury due to your health dwindling."

Sebastian wordless lowered his hands from his face and gazed at him for a long time. Ciel did not break eye contact nor did he appear to be ready to. His butler finally smiled crookedly and turned his head. "Yes, my Lord." He stated coolly, lifting the reins back into his hands. "What am I to say to the Frenchman about the teacups?"

Ciel stepped back into the carriage. "_Please." _He rolled his exposed blue eye skyward. "Tell him to send a sample through the mail." The horses began to gallop again. "Besides," He added lazily. "I wasn't in the mood for the outdoors anyway." Behind the childish lilt, Sebastian could hear the hint of embarrassment laced in his words. The demon chuckled as he cracked the reins for the horsed to move faster. "Honestly, my Lord…" He murmured softly. "It's against a nobleman's code of conduct to _fret _over your servants…"

Ulquiorra stood at his window, staring out into the vast desert in silence. His eyelids were half lowered as his mind replayed the past events that occurred just recently.

The woman's _friends… _had somehow managed to break into Las Noches, but had surprisingly handled the situation better than they had expected. That boy… _that shinigami… _

The Cuatra bit down on his lower lip and his eyebrows furrowed as Ichigo's visage formed in his mind. _That damn shinigami… _had ruined everything; and without as much violence as was anticipated.

Ichijo had simply _lost control. _His inner Hollow had done mostly everything, this including the death of Zommari, Barragan, and even _Yami_… though this was achieved only because the Cero Espada had no time to unleash his _Resurrección__. _

While the orange haired shinigami was sparring with a handful of Espada, Ulquiorra- who had been on the sidelines supposedly protecting Aizen- had took heed of Orihime's presence in the Hougyoku room. He knew she was rejecting it, he knew everything would have been over if she were to finish… but… he… _just_… couldn't find it in himself to stop her. Aizen would have had her captured and most likely killed for doing so.

_Ulquiorra had gone against his wishes._

Even _he _was startled by how bold it was. But he was fully aware about what he would do if Aizen ever touched her. The Cuatra wouldn't be able to control himself. He would have brought the end to both of their lives. He didn't want to see her smile disappear…

So he let her go. Ulquiorra had watched her leave with her dear companions through _Garganta, _but his face hadn't given away any of the loneliness that threatened to reveal itself. Orihime had thrown him one last look before the gateway had closed. She was fighting against another emotion, as well…

_Sadness._

And that was that last he had seen of her.

Ulquiorra sighed and pressed the palm of his hand against his face. In his room, this was the only time he could allow himself to show any weakness. Ever since that night with Orihime… alien emotions were constantly pestering him everyday. It was almost as if he was human… and that bothered him.

"Woman, what have you done to me…?" The Cuatra mumbled. "Are you happy now? You've thrown me in a pit of confusion. I… I…" He couldn't say it. He could never utter "hate" towards the big-breasted girl. _Dammit… _

All of a sudden, his right eye pulsed. Painfully. Ulquiorra could only twitch. _Ugh… _

Usually this happened to his left eye (seeing as he removed it to transfer information via mind particles), but his _right? _

Irritated by both his clouded thoughts and the pain in his eye, Ulquiorra swept into his personal bathroom to examine the problem. He went straight to the mirror and widened his right eye ever so slightly to see it properly. The Cuatra's eye watered when he did, but he ignored it and stared unblinkingly for a long time.

The green of his eye was changing into a vibrant pool of lavender. Ulquiorra blinked, but as soon as his eyelid was open again, his pupil now held a faint pentagram with the same shade as his newly altered iris.

But the fact that seemed to disturb him the most… was that it was eerily _nostalgic_ to him. (It also clashed _horribly_ with his green, white and black outlook.)

It took a while for the image of his new eye to be processed through his mind. When it did, Ulquiorra did the only thing that comforted him when he was by himself. He quietly sat on the floor of his bathroom, pulled his knees to his chest, buried his face between them and was silent for a good ten minutes.

He let out a soft, drawn out curse during this and proceeded to stand up again. He needed help from someone and Ulquiorra knew deep in his heart (did he even have one?) that he was not going to enjoy it.

"Szayel…" The Cuatra muttered as he exited out of his chambers.

Somewhere in Victorian England, a certain demon butler's left hand scorched and caused him to abruptly drop the tray of tea in his hands. Sebastian sighed and began to pick up the broken shards. Ciel was _not _going to be happy. (Was he _ever_ nowadays?)

He glanced at the hand that bore the Faustian signature in his flesh. It was telling him something, but he had yet to realize what exactly that _something_ was.

Sebastian Michaelis lifted his head a little when he heard a loud yell coming from Ciel's office…


	2. Agony

Ulquiorra was not a man of weakness (well, not in _public_ to be exact). He had fought back urges to snap at the always irritating Grimmjow and the sickeningly perverse Nnoitra. He had kept a straight face even as he endured internal, emotional turmoil whenever he was in Orihime's presence. The Cuatra could _especially_ suppress even the tiniest of impulses to smack Gin for being such a Barney-loving asshole.

But nothing… _nothing… _could compare to the conflict he was suffering through as Szayel Aporro Granz examined his _entire _form with no regard to even give him a blanket.

Yes, he had known beforehand just how awful the experience would be. He imagined that the Octava Espada would have wanted to conduct multiple tests or experiments since his newly altered eye was something the Cuatra doubted Szayel had ever seen before.

Though he most definitely had not expected the Octava to order him to strip naked, sit on his large dissection table and remain motionless as at least forty of Szayel's gadgets studied him.

"Is this not a bit… too much?" Ulquiorra asked flatly as he sat covering what little dignity from Szayel's unwavering eyes. (The Cuatra had yet to know the pink haired male's sexual orientation, but he did _not _want him to get any ideas when that day came.) The pale man was deeply agitated when he heard no response. "Answer me-"

"Too much is never enough, Ulquiorra." Szayel dismissed his words at the spot. "Now stop fidgeting. I can't get a good angle… and…" The scientist mumbled something inaudible at the end of his sentence. Ulquiorra did not dare press him further.

At last, the machines were pulled away and Ulquiorra turned to quickly dress. Szayel perused through a list of data that he had just printed, tapping a thoughtful finger to his chin as he did. "How peculiar…" He smiled slyly at his superior. "There is a high concentration of an unknown substance building up in that eye of yours. I've only seen this once…" His voice trailed off as he pondered. "Ah, now I recall. It was when I was observing the _Gates of Hell_."

Hearing this, the Cuatra could only lift an eyebrow. "The Gates of Hell…?" It wasn't like he had never heard it before. Such a thing did exist, but it was a rare phenomenon. Only beings- not mattering whether if it was Hollow or Shinigami- that did something so _sinful_ could possibly end up in there. It was a hundred times worse than Hueco Mundo. The mere sight of the _doorway_ to Hell was enough to make a person scare themselves shitless.

Ulquiorra's eyebrows knitted together. "Why would such a thing be on an Arrancar… no, an _Espada? _I have not done anything as infamous enough to send me to Hell." Had he? His aspect of death was nihilism but, as uncommon as it was with humans, it was still present in reality. Nothing was wrong with him.

He watched Szayel's expression turn sour. "I don't know." He said the words as if they were venom to his tongue. It really must have given him much effort to utter it in front of Ulquiorra. The pink haired Espada beckoned him closer, so he did.

The Cuatra flinched when Szayel's fingers touched the skin around his right eye. "This… eye of yours. Did it look like this when you first saw it?" He inquired. Ulquiorra smacked his hand away and deepened his frown. "What do you mean?" Szayel called for one of his Fraccion to give him a mirror. Ulquiorra could only gawk again. His right eye was an even brighter lilac than it was before. A person from across the far side of the room could have easily spotted it.

"I…" Ulquiorra could only _imagine _what Aizen would say if he saw it. Szayel pursed his lips when he saw the flicker of dread in his superior's eyes. Although they hardly saw each other, they were still on better terms than with most of the Espada. The scientist sighed and turned back to his work station. He fumbled around with a piece of white cloth, a needle and a red thread.

When he turned again, Ulquiorra saw an eye patch in his hand. The Cuatra frowned. "You expect me to wear that?" This was answered by a swift smack to the head. He recoiled in surprise. Surely Szayel Aporro of all people knew when to suppress his emotions from those stronger than him! But…

Ulquiorra saw the displeasure written all over Szayel's face. Did such a meager thing as an eye patch mean so much to him? The Cuatra proceeded to repeat said line to him.

"I made it for someone, that's why it's special." Szayel's scowl deepened. "Do you see me handing out gifts for others? No. That's why it's special. I don't see what Orihime saw in yo- ah… um…" His voice faltered when he saw anger flashing in Ulquiorra's eyes. Orihime Inoue was never brought up in front of the Cuatra Espada. Unless, of course, that person was asking for a death wish. (He was so sensitive at times…)

Szayel coughed and his hands reached over to fasten the eye patch around his altered eye. He carefully avoided tangling it in Ulquiorra's broken Hollow mask. When he pulled away to scrutinize his work, he couldn't help but snigger. Ulquiorra looked too ridiculous for words…

* * *

"Young master, what ever is the matter with you?" Sebastian was bent over his Lord's small form, which was crouched on the floor like a hurt animal. The broken tea set had been left forgotten on the desk as soon as the demon butler had noticed Ciel in such a state. After all, it was in his contract to maintain his master's healthy well being.

Ciel did not respond at first. His hands were covering his face, but Sebastian knew he couldn't be crying, his master had long forgotten about human emotions.

"Sebastian…" His voice was hollow. "Explain _this _to me!" Ciel lifted his head and the butler doubled back in surprise. The Earl of Phantomhive's eye patch had been removed and the eye that should have held that haunting amethyst and mark of their bond… was visually fading. It was still there, but the visage was rather faint.

The demon butler had no idea how to react to it. He had never seen something like this occur while he was under a contract. Since the pentagram was disappearing, did that mean that Ciel's deal with him was, as well? He hadn't fulfilled his master's request though!

Something dawned on Sebastian. It was something he had been told about when he in Hell. One of the more elder demons was explaining to him about the outline of a basic contract.

"Now listen here, you whippersnapper! You don't just follow regular guidelines." He had rasped. Sebastian recalled how confused he had been when he had heard that. "What do you mean, sir?" He was always careful about address others. He was young compared to how ancient the more advanced demons were. The elder demon had sighed. "A contract is similar to a human contract. It had a few flaws in it. There's a rare one for demons like us."

"And that would be?"

He waited for the elder demon to finish hacking and coughing. (Yes, he was quite old indeed.) After wiping his mouth on his sleeve (which Sebastian found disgusting), he replied "It's called a _loophole. _Ever heard of that? It's something that had been left out in our law that humans can use to get around our restrictions. We obviously don't tell them about it."

"Why not?" Sebastian was curious. The elder demon had rolled his crimson eyes skyward. "Would you like to have a _human _outwit _you, _a _demon_?"

That was when he had learned that minor secret, but in the current situation Sebastian felt regret swell up in him. If only he had pressed the elder demon further. He needed to learn more about a Faustian contract's loopholes. But more importantly…

"Young master?" Ciel eyed him inquisitively. "What- _ah! Put me down, you imbecile!" _Sebastian scooped the young Earl into his arms and began to leave his office. "My Lord, you should sleep it off." His butler smiled, though it seemed forced to Ciel. The head of the Phantomhive family was silent as his butler carried him to his room.

After tucking his master in and making sure he was comfortable, Sebastian departed to his own chambers. He needed to check for those damn loopholes…

* * *

Ulquiorra was, by all means, royally pissed. Grimmjow (of all people) had seen him exit from Szayel's lab with his newly added eye patch secured around his head. The first thing that spewed from the Sexta's mouth came naturally.

"What the hell are you trying to be?!" He roared with laughter. "A pirate fag? An emo Tesla? A skuzzy man whore? 'Cause you're three for three, fucktard!" Ulquiorra had wanted to cero his ass to oblivion then and there, had it not been for the fact that Grimmjow's outburst was causing a certain silver haired shinigami to pop out of nowhere. The day was becoming worst by the minute.

"Hi, Emo-Car!" He greeted Ulquiorra. "Hi, kitty!" He said to Grimmjow with equal cheerfulness. "What's wit' all the noise out 'ere?" He finally noticed the Cuatra's eye patch. Gin's mouth represented a large "o" when he saw it. "Oh mai gosh! Is it Halloween already?! Ulquiorra, do you have another pirate costume? We could go as a pair-"

"Go die," Was the albino's response before he swept away. Gin pouted. "What's the matter wit' him? I was bein' nice!" He poked a finger at his chin thoughtfully. "Ulquiorra's been all Mista' Grumpy-pants since Hime left, hasn't he, Kitty?" Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Like I give a shit about his love life. I mean… I'm in still in shock that he managed to get laid by the princess! She's got huge…" He cupped both of his hands and pulled them away from his chest to show emphasis. "_… huge… _knockers!" Gin only looked at him.

The Sexta finally recalled about the fox-faced man's lover and shuddered. "Ugh, why is it that the most creepy-ass people in the world get the girls with huge…?" He had remembered when Rangiku Matsumoto had thrown herself on Gin and sucked face with him as she cried. It was when the Captain-Commander had declared Sousuke Aizen, Kaname Tousen and Gin Ichimaru to be exiled into Hueco Mundo forever. They were not allowed into Soul Society or the Human World. If they did, the punishment was death. Of course, no one was willing to risk that.

Gin's smile wavered only slightly. "Ya know, Kitty… maybe you _should _investigate Ulquiorra's new pirate fetish." He said, playfully adding weight to the word.

"Why the hell should I do that?"

"I have catnip~"

"_Go to fucking Hell!"_

"Fine, I'll go ask someone more fun!"

A few minutes later…

Gin knocked on a certain Espada's door. It opened and Stark took one look at him, before slamming it in his face. The same process occurred when the shinigami went to Halibel's, Nnoitra's, Aaroniero's, Barragan's, Yami's, Szayel's, and Zommari's rooms.

Gin sighed depressively. "I have no one to play with…"

"Ouaaa…"

He turned and saw a particular blonde haired, purple eyed arrancar staring back at him blankly. Gin's trademark smile spread across his face once more. "Hey, Wonderwice, wanna play Sherlock Holmes wit' me?"

"Ouuaaa…?"

"Yes, it's about Ulquiorra."

"Ouuuaaa."

"Sure, I'll get you an eye patch, too, if you play."

* * *

Sebastian groaned. He was sick and tired of reading through all the files relating to his past masters. Yes, demons had paperwork. The shinigami in England were second only to them if the competition was the amount of routine clerical work they had. The Japanese shinigami, on the other hand, had it easier. Sebastian recalled William Spears complaining about the Death God shortage in England during the Jack the Ripper case. (The Japanese were practically overflowing with shinigami, so paperwork was a scanty thing.)

As his thoughts trailed onwards and his hand was absently rummaging through the files in his drawer, his mark seared again and his fingers froze upon one article. Sebastian glanced at it as he pulled it out.

_Schiffer, Ulrich… _that's what the label read. "Hmm…" Sebastian removed every piece of record from the folder and spread them out on his desk. He squinted his eyes a little to read in the candlelight.

Ah, yes. He remembered now. Ulrich Schiffer was his last master before Ciel Phantomhive. He had blonde hair back then and the most eerie green eyes. He was German, but had moved to England on the account that his wife was British and he wanted to bond with her family. Ulrich had had a passion for ivory things, so most of his wardrobe had been composed of vast white. Sebastian couldn't forget about that. Ulrich's appearance was the complete opposite of his back then. He was quite a cheerful fellow before he made his contract…

"Ridiculous…" The butler mentally scolded himself. He hated himself for being too attached to his clients- as rare as the case was- and he had his reputation to think of. His thoughts lingered back to Ciel. He had never seen him so distressed. _Over_ _him? _It couldn't be. It wasn't the notion that the Earl was only twelve and his current form was in his twenties that bothered him. It was that he was a demon with no heart. But why… _why… _did it hurt him so much to see his young master in pain?

He hated feeling like that.

Sebastian gazed at Ulrich's picture for a long time. He finally sighed. He knew what he had to do. There was only one person that he was aware of that could get him the information he needed without much persuasion. "I must be mad…" The demon butler muttered as he left his bed chambers to scour London.

He leapt from roof to roof, hunting for a certain Death God…

"_Little Sebby!" _There was a blur of crimson; something was heading towards him at break neck speed. On impulse, Sebastian lifted his right leg and his foot met Grell Sutcliff's face just in time. The red-obsessed Death God, jumped back and covered his face in horror. "Little Sebby! You damaged my beautiful face!! How could you?!"

"You'll live," The demon butler said flatly. "I need your…" He braced himself for it. "… _help." _At this, Grell raised his head from his hands and Sebastian saw joyful tears in his eyes. "Little Sebby…! You… you really want my help?! For once?!"

"Do not jump to conclusions-"

"Aaahh!! My looove! I would be glad to satisfy your _every _need!!" Grell said gleefully. (Though perhaps a bit too much.) He did a twirl, and Sebastian grimaced. "I want to retrieve a cinematic record." The Death God's twirl abruptly stopped. Grell stared at him for a long time. "Little Sebby… that's… _IT?!" _Sebastian flinched.

Grell slapped a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. "I was expecting something more… you know… _romantic… _but I'll do it~!"

The demon's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?" Grell giggled obnoxiously. "Oh Little Sebby, your eyes are simply _marvelous! _You know me best! I would like a big smooch in return, okay?"

"Go die." Sebastian felt a pang of nostalgia when he said this. Did someone else say it before…?

Grell pouted and turned away. "Fine, then I won't get you your cinematic record." The demon butler knew he was going to regret this for the rest of his damned life. A coy smile played on the Death God's lips when he saw how transfixed his adversary was. He was going to get what he wanted at last! He-

"Instead of a kiss, what if I show you _my _cinematic record?" Grell recoiled in surprise. He had not expected that at all! But… a grin stretched on his face. It was well worth it.

Sebastian sighed. It was better than his lips touching Grell's. _To think I'm doing this for my old master… _He thought mutely. He really _was _getting soft around Ciel's company.

* * *

A/N: If those of you have noticed~ so far the pairings are UlquiorraxOrihime, GinxRangiku and SebastianxCiel... and they are still going! :D ((I hope I made everyone in-character...))  
Yep. Ulqui is suffering for his new "look" and Sebastian is trying hard to find out what to do. Ulquiorra and Sebastian have so much in common~ the "Go Die" line is a habit for both of them. XD  
Tune in to find out about Sebastian's cinematic record... and the investigation by Detective Gin and his own Watson, Wonderwice. ((One can only imagine if this happened in canon...))  
Read and Review... I will... GIVE YOU ALL PIRATE COSTUMES FOR HUECO MUNDO'S NEXT HALLOWEEN BASH!!


	3. Loneliness

Something was clearly wrong. The Cuatra surveyed his usually unblemished room suspiciously. He had that Espada intuition that something was certainly different about it. He focused his Pesquisa onto individual sections of his chambers and that's when he felt it. Someone or something had been rummaging through his belongings. Their reiatsu was still lingering upon his furniture.

His frown deepened. Why was this happening to him? His pale fingers traced the outline of the eye patch that covered his right eye. It was all because of _this_ thing. He had yet to bump into Aizen, but sooner or later he knew his Lord would somehow find out. If what Szayel had stated was true about the Hellish aura surrounding his new eye, Ulquiorra wasn't sure how Aizen would react. He most certainly did not want to find out though.

Eyebrow twitching ever so slightly, Ulquiorra made his way over to his desk and was relieved to see that the drawer that contained his most personal belonging was still locked. It appeared as if someone struggled to bust it apart. No luck was granted, seeing as said lock was created by Szayel and was "borrowed" from his very own lab.

Ulquiorra bent over, pressed a finger against the keyhole and let his reiatsu seep out from his fingertip. There was a soft _click _and the drawer slid open revealing everything hidden within it. His precious belongings happened to be pictures of a certain big-breasted, orange haired teenager smiling warmly into the camera. He gazed at them for a good ten minutes before hesitantly brushing his dark lips against one of them and placing them back into the drawer.

He sighed. The Cuatra really hated missing her.

Ulquiorra rose to his full height and glanced at a notice on his desk. Messy, barely illegible words were scrawled on the note. He knew it was from Gin. Only _he_ would have the "wonderful" penmanship so well known throughout Las Noches. (Yami did better with crayon, Ulquiorra concluded with a sigh.)

After a while of deciphering the fox-faced man's handwriting, Ulquiorra finally determined that there was going to be an Espada meeting. (They weren't technically _meetings… _not since they had lost the war. Nowadays, it was just Aizen trying spend father-children time with them.)

He mentally face palmed himself. Now _everyone _would see him with the eye fucking patch…

* * *

The demon butler was currently within the Death God Library, gazing upon Ulrich Schiffer's magical play. He had already seen his former master's cinematic record beforehand. Luckily, his _own _cinematic record did not reveal anything too intimate when Grell saw it.

_**Flashback**_

"_Oooh! Let me give you a cute little cut on the finger, Little Sebby!" Grell gushed as he whipped out his chainsaw. The butler only glanced at it before shaking his head. The Death God's face fell. "What do you mean, I can't-"_

"_Use the scissors, you fool."_

"_But… but! They are so boring and they don't spill the same amount of blood as my Death Scythe-"_

_Sebastian pretended to stroll away from him. Grell fell for it immediately. Leaping forward with a hand stretched towards his adversary like a broken lover, Grell screamed, "No! My Little Sebby! I'll… I'll use the scissors… just for you- OOF!" _

"_Why thank you, Grell." Sebastian said in a sickly sweet voice as he backhanded the Death God across the face without even turning around. A few minutes later, Sebastian had a small, shallow wound sliced through his finger. Reels of his life exploded from it, though they were smaller than usual. Grell had to squint to see them clearly. _

_The first thing the red-obsessed Death God saw… was… a cat. Grell blinked a few times when he noticed the reel was filled with nothing but the ebony feline walking, purring, and drinking milk. Grell's eye twitched. "W… what the hell is this?!" He exclaimed just as the film finished. _

_Sebastian smiled coyly at him and straightened his overcoat. "That… was the love of my life." He replied serenely. "Now… if you will; Ulrich Schiffer's cinematic record please. Ah… wait…" He flashed a fang-filled grin at Grell. The Death God wanted to melt out of sheer ecstasy when he saw it. _

"_I'll tell you a _personal_ secret of mine, if you include Ulrich Schiffer's magical play, as well." The demon butler added._

"_Eeee! Anything for you, Little Sebby!"_

"Listen closely... my secret is-"

_**Flashback End**_

Grell was still bitter when Sebastian cheated him out of handing Ulquiorra's cinematic record and magical play. No, the red haired Death God assumed, Little Sebby hadn't cheated at all. He found a fucking loophole and used it. A cat, _a goddamn cat, _was Grell's competition?! The Death God's lips twisted into a pout. Go figure.

Sebastian had been examining that dead human's history when he was alive and breathing. He seemed immensely _interested_ in that dead human. Grell felt more jealously swell up in his chest. _More players in this game?_ He thought resentfully. _So be it! Little Sebby will be all mine!_

The demon butler ignored the Death God's irritating, self-muttering and continued gazing at the very last perfect memoir of Ulrich Schiffer's life playing in a film.

Ulrich when he was four. He was in the garden of his family's estate, tiny hand grasping a white rose and his other hand stroking the petals. He was not smiling; and Sebastian knew why. In the reel, his blonde hair was cropped short. Ulrich's French cousin, Grégory "accidentally" dropped a handful of used candy and they had been stuck to Ulrich's hair, so it was hacked off.

The film moved on to when Ulrich was ten. There was a grumpy blue-haired Grégory in the kitchen with him. Ulrich was too much of a polite and innocent boy when he was younger to have taken revenge on his cousin; but as soon as he had the chance when he was older, he had borrowed his father's blue ink and "accidentally" spilled it unto Grégory hair while he was taking a catnap.

The film reels shifted and Sebastian grimaced when he saw the scene playing before him. It was Ulrich's secondary school. It was when he was just turning sixteen. It was when _it _happened that changed the course of his former master's life.

Ulrich had been so happy and grateful for the wonderful life that had been given to him. He had let his hair grow out to the point his golden locks brushed against the back of his neck. Even his emerald eyes had that sheen of bliss that was so rare to be seen. It was during the first year of his secondary school was when he met _her; _the girl that would end up as his loving wife when he bloomed into adulthood. As luck may have it, she was sick and absent from school when _it _happened.

Sebastian was never to mention _it _ever again. Even when his ties with Ulrich Schiffer had been thought to have perished, he felt obliged to keep his promise to him. He _had _been his favorite master before Ciel.

"And apparently, you still _are_, my Lord…" He mumbled to himself.

* * *

Stares. That was all Ulquiorra could feel on him when he sat down at his according seat in the meeting hall. He could sense pity radiating off Szayel though… but like the _Cuatra_ needed sympathy from weaker trash.

Grimmjow had a Cheshire cat grin ripping across his face like it was stitched there. (Why, oh, why did he sit across from him in the first place?) Stark- who sat beside him- only side glanced at him before closing his eyes for a brief nap. Halibel, Barragan and Zommari were the only other Espada who made no reaction towards it. Nnoitra immediately began laughing hysterically. ("Are you trying to jack my style, Emo-Car?!" He chortled.) Yami was coughing loudly into his arm, most likely stifling laughter, as well. (Though he was smart enough not to do it aloud, shocking as it was.) Even Aaroniero's lava lamp tank was gurgling louder than it usually was. (They were damn lucky they had a full covering mask to block their faces…)

Ulquiorra clenched his teeth to suppress strong urges to tell everyone his favorite line. (i.e. "Go die".) He could sense Aizen making his way in.

"Good Evening, my dear Espa-" His footsteps screeched to a halt and his eyes widened ever so slightly when he saw Ulquiorra.

Eye patch.

Eye patch.

_Eye patch._

_EYE PATCH._

Forcing a smile, Aizen said, "That's… quite a… unique look on you, Ulquiorra…" This was answered by Grimmjow's and Nnoitra's mingled laughter. They were on the verge of falling off their chairs. Ulquiorra had no idea how to respond to his "compliment", so he just sat there looking very blank.

Aizen quickly slipped into his seat before the situation became more awkward than it already was… but… he simply could not stop gawking at the eye patch on his favorite Espada. It looked… so out-of-place…

"May I ask the reasons for this new look, Ulquiorra?" He asked. The Cuatra's expression became stonier than it was before. Aizen swore the temperature dropped fifteen degrees.

"… I…" _Think Ulqui! Dammit, use that brain of yours! _"… accidentally stabbed myself in the eye as I was filing paper work." _Oh my God…_

Hearing this, Halibel found herself joining in with the stares. Ulquiorra had never appeared as the clumsy one among them. How the hell did someone mutilate their eye with a goddamn pencil? Did he trip and fall on it as it was standing on the eraser end?

"…"

Silence filled the room.

* * *

"Mmm…" Ciel murmured softly in his sleep and rolled onto his side. He stirred and then finally awoke to have moonlight hit his eyes. He cringed. Ah, yes… Sebastian had given him time to sleep over the mishap that happened so early in the day. Now it was evening and the Earl could only imagine how much work was left on his desk. On a force of habit, Ciel sat up on his bed and called, "Sebastian!"

No butler came. He didn't even come ten minutes later. Ciel had no choice but to dress himself. He had no experience in this area, so at the end, his appearance was rather frazzled. It could have been worse, Ciel concluded with a small frown. He had checked his eye in the mirror and much to his utter dismay; his right eye had a faint sheen of blue that matched his normal eye.

What the hell was going on?

Sebastian was his sword and shield. He had vowed to stay by him even in the darkness that would have soon devoured him. It was his principals that led him to do those things for him. He was a _dog_ with principals, Ciel thought bitterly, recalling the same words William Spears had stated a long time ago.

Ciel- even with the dignity of an older man- sunk back into his mattress with his formal clothes on. He was exhausted and frustrated by his butler's sudden secretive manner towards him. He wanted answers, but Sebastian was giving away no hints of what was yet to come.

The Earl of Phantomhive moaned softly and briefly closed his eyes. _Sebastian… you better not leave me, you cretin. I'll hate you to my very last breath, you can be sure of that!_

_

* * *

  
_A/N: Sorry if this chaper ended up shorter than the others...  
For now (and in a few more chapters) I want you all to understand about Ulquiorra's past and his actions that led up to what he currently is: an arrancar.  
Ah, and the ones that ransacked Ulqui's room were none other than Sherlock Gin and his Watson, Wonderwice~ XD The secret Sebastian told Grell was: "I hate you." :D  
And can you all take a gander about the identity of Ulrich's French cousin, _Grégory_~?  
Poor Ciel! D: He's lonely without his butler~ oh, well!

HELP HIM GET SOME LOVE BACK BY REVIEWING PWEASE! 3


	4. Broken Encounters

A/N: Here's the turning point of the story~ :D (This chapter is the longest so far, too!)

* * *

Ciel walked down the hallway in his mansion. He was searching for his butler, though he knew that it was doing nothing but wasting time on his part. It would have felt odd to be calling for Sebastian throughout his abode. It would have made him appear desperate and he was not going to tolerate that.

He had first asked Tanaka, but he caught him at the wrong time and was only answered by a string of "_ho, ho, ho's" _while the old man was in his shrunken form.

He had asked the gardener, Finnian-or Finni by others except Sebastian and him- about it. His reply was really no help at all. ("The young master lost Sebastian…?" Finni poked at his chin thoughtfully with his free hand as the other held the tube that was connected to the tank of herbicide. "Wow, it's so weird. I mean, I _thought _I saw him jump out the window last night… but that couldn't happen…I… _oops!" _The tube had snapped in his hands and herbicide began shooting out uncontrollably. Finni gave a start and wailed, "Sorry, sir!!")

Ciel asked the maid, Mey-Rin, who wasn't even _remotely _useful. ("Sebastian is missing?!" She squealed in horror and clutched her cheeks, also dropping the plates she was carrying. The maid watched it crash to the floor with dismay. "No! Now Sebastian won't come home with the broken dishes!! He'll never forgive me!" She broke off sobbing hysterically and began to run away… only to trip over said plates.)

Baldroy- Ciel's personal chef- well… he ended up as "beneficial" as the other two. ("Huh, Sebastian's missing?" He scratched his head contemplatively and turned from the stove. "I haven't seen him awhile since last week actually. No, I don't think it was when he was _actually _missing, he just… avoided me, you see. I just asked him to try something I made without dynamite and then he ran out after he took one bite. It must have been good…" Behind him, the stove detonated and metal flew in every direction. Both of them were unharmed, but there was a gaping hole in the place the stove had been. Bard went rigid and he went to fetch a broom. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He muttered as he began sweeping.)

Ciel was at his breaking point. He had no idea how Sebastian could work alongside those idiots. The Earl shuffled to his office, half expecting to see his butler inside cleaning, but he was left to nothing but disappointment when he saw it barren. He slid into his chair slowly. Sebastian was gone. He was gone.

The head of Phantomhive slammed a frustrated fist on his desk. "Dammit, Sebastian! Why are you consistently telling me you'll never harm me? What the hell do you think you're doing right now, bastard…?" Ciel bent forward, rested his arms on his desk and laid his head there in silence; a lonely, empty silence.

After a long while of basking in gloom, Ciel regained his composure and straightened his posture. He looked up and saw the person he was searching for standing right in front of him. The boy nearly leapt out of his chair, but he settled with standing. His sapphire eye was hard. "Where have you been?"

Sebastian's eyes flickered. "I've been at the Death God Library." Why was he brushing away from the answer? Ciel was becoming more and more aggravated with him. He didn't even care that Sebastian hadn't added an honorific to his sentence. "What have you been doing?"

"Researching."

"Researching _what?! Stop doing that!" _Ciel's voice rose into a shout. "Stop avoiding the truth! I want answers _now! _Our pact stated that you listen to my every whim! I am your master-"

"That… is where you are incorrect, Ciel Phantomhive." The demon butler's tone was light and crisp, a stark difference from his stony expression. The Earl doubled back in surprise. Sebastian had called him so informally. He had the nerve to do such a thing?

Sebastian Michaelis made his way over to Ciel, his arms locked behind his back and his stride was more loose and relaxed. He stopped at his desk and made eye contact with him. Ciel could only stare back with one wide blue eye. The butler finally pulled an arm around and reached to remove the eye patch around the Earl's right eye. It fluttered onto the mahogany surface gentle and Sebastian saw that his suspicions were confirmed. Ciel's right eye… it was normal. It was that same beautiful, blue pool like that of his other eye. That eye had been the symbol of their contract. It was gone now. That meant…

"Ciel Phantomhive," Sebastian chose his words carefully. "Our pact is over…"

Something within the boy seemed to have died. A shadow crossed his innocent features and his pale lips parted. Words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to say something, _anything _to Sebastian. This had to be a nightmare; a horrible nightmare. Sebastian would never leave him, not without a soul to consume… not… without… _him. _The shared something with each other, though Ciel wasn't sure if it broke the boundaries of master and servant. He had always felt connected with his butler and now…?

"Why…?" He managed to breathe. The demon butler seemed to have expected this. He inclined his head. "I recently acquired information that my former master… is actually quite alive at the moment." Ciel opened his mouth to press his further, but Sebastian shook his head. "Please do not dig any further into this. You will not be able to comprehend it-"

"Try me!" The Earl snapped. A hint of a smirk played on the demon's lips. Ciel was somewhat back to normal to say the least. Either way… Sebastian only shook his head again. "My former master is not fairly human at the moment, you see. It's simply complicated to explain to a human. It's just as hard to explain to _demons, _as well. What I found out was quite… a phenomenon."

"He's not here in _this _time. In the future he will be, but as someone certainly different." The butler frowned. "He was a rare case. When I was about to devour him, the thing just appeared out of nowhere and…" His voice trailed off. Sebastian finally _looked _at Ciel and noticed the pain written on the Earl's face. His crimson eyes softened. "You do realize what must be done?"

Ciel turned away and gazed out the window behind him, but Sebastian knew he really wasn't _looking. _"You're saying that you are going to leave me to see your other master. I know; you don't have to push it further."

Sebastian was quiet at first. "That is not all, Ciel. When I leave this world, you and everyone that knew me… will lose all memories of me. I will cease to exist in your world." Vomit stirred in Ciel's stomach. Lies. Sebastian was lying to him. How could he make _him_ forget about him?!

Sebastian's lips winced into a weak smile. "I want you to know that it has nothing to do with our… _relationship. _I am merely doing what I've been created to do. I have nothing against you, Ciel."

The Earl bit his tongue and tasted metallic in his mouth. "Please… just go." He seethed. Sebastian looked away, but then glanced at Ciel almost hoping the boy would object to it. He heard nothing. The butler ultimately bowed. "Farewell, Ciel Phantomhive. We may or may not meet again in the future."

He spun on his heel and headed for the door, but just as he was about to close it, he whispered ever so softly… "You were _always_ my favorite master." It was as good as saying, "I love you" to Ciel and that made the Earl flinch in pain. The door closed. Ciel felt as if his heart were being slowly ripped to shreds. It had been healing ever since he spent time with Sebastian, but now the seams were weak and everything was falling apart.

_He was _really_ gone. He was gone. Forever._

* * *

Sebastian pressed his back against the door and closed his eyes for a few seconds. If he had a heart, it would have most definitely ached. But he didn't, so none of those feelings arose. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of Tanaka in his regular form.

The old man gazed at his knowingly. "You are leaving the young master?" Sebastian could nod silently. Tanaka sighed and turned his head. "Without you around, I don't think it'll be the same. The young master really has a liking for you." It didn't take a genius to know that Tanaka had found out about their _relationship._

Tanaka's expression became serious. "Is this what you really want, Sebastian Michaelis? Your choice could alter everything." The demon butler had always had a profound respect for the old man and what he was doing at that moment emphasized it. He was the Phantomhive's steward for three generations. He knew the inside and out of the family.

Sebastian finally nodded his head. "I have my principles, Tanaka. They are all I truly own and I intend to follow them no matter the consequences." The old man nodded solemnly. "I understand; you are entitled to your own decisions. I will not stop you, but please… _please… _remember the young master. You were the only one who could have an understanding of him. In a way, you have mended holes in his heart. I'm sure he will never forget about you."

Sebastian smiled sadly and began to walk away. "I have a feeling of that, too."

* * *

Ulquiorra shut the door to his room behind him and immediately collapsed on his bed face first. The meeting (a.k.a. father-children playtime) was utter hell. No one could take the Cuatra seriously with the damn eye patch on. Maybe he should have just stabbed it and be done with it.

He thought this over for a few minutes but shook it off. No, he would still have to wear an eye patch since only his eye socket could be seen. Aizen wouldn't tolerate his "son" walking about without an eye. It was "improper".

He groaned softly. _Could this day possibly get any worse?_

* * *

Sebastian cracked both knuckled individually and rolled his head back and forth until he heard a satisfied crack of his neck popping. He would need to get his energy pumping for the amount of "magic" (as the humans call it) to summon the Gates of Hell.

He had decided to open it above a nearby church, just for his own amusement and that he could tell someone about it when he entered. Sebastian closed his eyes and extended both arms forward as if he were awaiting an embrace from an invisible force. His lips parted and long sequence of a cryptic language danced from his tongue. It sounded closely to hisses and a mix of three different human languages, but Sebastian wasn't sure. It just came naturally with the job. The elder demon taught it to him, he remembered it and that was that.

A crimson line appeared before him and smoky darkness slowly seeped out of the crack in the air. It gradually shaped itself into a form of a medium sized gate, perfect if three people were entering it side by side. Skulls decorated it and a mist of red swirled around the bottom of the gates. The entrance creaked open and a gust of wind erupted from it, making Sebastian's hair and coattails flutter. His eyes glittered like rubies as he swept forward.

Home sweet home.

The gates swung close behind him. He had returned back to Hell. Sebastian tilted his head and inhaled. Ah, he missed that smell. He opened his eyes and drank in the scenery like ambrosia. It was night. It was always night here. There were dark buildings molded in grotesque fashions. Dim lights came from their windows. It summed up as your average neighborhood, but with a darker, more gothic atmosphere.

There were never dead bodies lying around. There was not fire everywhere. There were not screams to be heard. Those were such prejudice from humans. Hell was really quite peaceful…

That is…

Sebastian smirked and walked forward on the deserted street. He felt tremors beneath his feet. Hell was divided into two sections. The one below him was where all the fire, brimstone, screaming, and eternal pain was; so it technically half a lie.

… a person had to be living on the top section for it to be declared peaceful, of course.

He suppressed a snicker. _Only demons lived on the top section…_

As he walked towards his actual home, he felt rather odd for wearing his Victorian outfit. It wasn't strange- there were demons that wore clothes from many different eras, past, present or future- but Sebastian thought it clashed a bit horribly if he ever saw his…

"Big brother! You came home!" It felt like a boulder crashed into his back and knocked the wind out of him. Sebastian staggered forward to regain his balance and gripped the thin arms that were wrapped around him. Someone was nuzzling his or her head against his back. Sebastian was having trouble loosening the arms entwined around him, which would have been peculiar, since he had inhuman strength; but he was back home and that made him indifferent.

He finally managed to break away and turn around to see who had attacked and or hugged him. A teenage girl with waist long, black hair, messy bangs and a pale complexion was flashing a fang filled grin at him. She wore a plaid bow shirt, a plaid punk cardigan, a plaid ruffle skirt and on her feet were chain strapped boots that went up to her knees. All in all, her clothes were in the same color combination as Sebastian's- red, black and white.

"Demetra…" He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Even in Hell- in his own home- he had his own pests. Said pest was actually his…

"You've been gone for two years!" She wailed. "I was so _lonely, _big brother!" Sebastian could not hold back a sigh. He could not believe that the elder demon _baptized- _ironic as it was- this _demon _among _demons… _as his _sister. _She couldn't even transform herself into a humanoid form without some kind of abnormal quirk included- such as right now for instance.

Demetra had feline ears and a long bushy black tail. Since she couldn't even control basic demon abilities, she could never leave Hell to make a Faustian Contract with a human. Sebastian caught any chance to flee from her. She was Finni, May-Rin, and Bard in one body. She would make up for those three now that he had returned. Go figure.

"Hey, hey… big brother, did you have a nice soul to eat?" She chimed as she jogged beside Sebastian to keep up with his walking pace. He threw her an annoyed look. "No, I did not, Demetra."

"Eh?! But you're… you're like the best demon down here. I thought big brother was invincible!"

"I'm not… the _Master, _Demetra." Sebastian rolled his eyes and took a turn around a corner. He really wished she would leave him alone. He had a hard time finding time gateways as it was. And why in Hell, did she think he was invincible? Death God weapons could kill him. (But that _was _pretty much it.)

His sister frowned. "Well, duh, I know you're not. I thought all members of _that _group were unstoppable though…" Her tone was thoughtful. Sebastian twitched and wanted ever so badly to smack her… until he finally sensed a nearby time gateway. It was inside one of the houses. He went straight into it, Demetra following closely behind.

And there is was: the portal was hovering in what appeared to be the living room. Sebastian turned to his sister and poked a finger to her forehead. "_Behave_, Demetra Michaelis. I do not want the elder to be having a fit about you towards me. Do I make myself clear?" She nodded feebly and watched as her brother slipped one foot inside the portal. He paused and looked at her once more. "Actually…"

Her cat ears perked up. "Yes, big brother?"

"I want you to do me a favor, Demetra. I will write a note to the elder about it (and with my clean record, he'll consider it). It's… somewhat of a challenge." His eyes had that crimson hue.

"I _love_ games, big brother!"

He smirked. "Good; I want you to…"

* * *

Ulquiorra slept peacefully for a few hours. He was having the same dream that he usually did every night. Orihime was all he could think about nowadays. Her laughter and smiling face was all the Nirvana he needed.

He heard a creaking noise in his room. The Cuatra sat up and looked around. Surely it wasn't Gin and Wonderwice again. Ulquiorra didn't think they were _that _stupid to ransack his room when he was already in it. But it wasn't. His Pesquisa wasn't picking up anyone within a mile radius.

Ulquiorra slithered out of bed and walked towards where he believed the sound was coming from: his window. He noticed it had been left open, or so he believed. He poked his head out the window and turned his left and right. There was no one in sight. Only the sand beneath him and the colorless moon above him was all he could see. He shut his window and turned on his heel to his bed again…

"Is your life really that bland now, my Lord?" A velvet voice behind him made a ripple of shock course through Ulquiorra's body. There was someone in the room with him that he hadn't sensed? _He_, _the Cuatra? _His eyes narrowed and he spun around.

He saw a young man ravished in a dark, Victorian butler's outfit sitting on his windowsill. His crimson eyes were illuminated and his lips were pulled up into a smile. Moonlight had streamed through Ulquiorra's window causing an eerie glow to smother around the man.

The Cuatra could only stare as his mind and heart were screaming at him. They were stating that he knew him, but Ulquiorra did not know where or when. His eyebrows knitted together in suspicion while his emerald eyes watched the man. "Who are you? Are you a Shinigami? Are you a Hollow?"

The man's smile broadened. "I am…" He pushed himself up and politely bowed to Ulquiorra.

"… just one _hell_ of a butler."

* * *

A/N: And so Ulquiorra and Sebastian finally meet!! -runs around in a circle and screams before fainting and waking up again- Yay~  
I felt really bad for letting Sebby leave Ciel, but it couldn't helped!  
Oh, and my OC, Demetra is most definitely _not a Mary-Sue! (_(Augh! The accursed Mary-Suesss~!!)) She will have a big role in the future. ((Even in Hell, Sebby has his own little someone to remind him of the Phantomhives.)) XD  
The _Master _Sebastian was referring to was the "Big Man" a.k.a. Lucifer.

Will Ciel ever see Sebastian again? How will Ulquiorra react to Sebastian? Will he even _remember _him? _And _about his past? And what about Ichigo and friends? Tune in next time to find out what happens~!!

READ AND REVIEW!! ((Or I eat your socks~RAWR! D: ))


	5. Shattered

**A/N: Ho, snap doggies. It's been almost a year since I last updated. Allow me a minute to beg for forgiveness. *bows forward rapidly, apologizing like crazy* OKEY DOKIE. Well, I was just shaken back into my Bleach muse after finding a new OTP (which I won't tell yet~). You guys will... probably not share the same views of the pairing like I do, but THIS IS MY STORY. I will force you to love it! *flails wildly* (Hint: It's a yaoi pairing.) Anyway: ON TO THE STORY.**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji and Bleach. Don't sue! Don't sue!_

_

* * *

_

"I'm worried… Ichigo."

Ichigo Kurosaki raised his head from the manga he was reading and looked at Rukia with vague puzzlement. He slapped the volume shut, swept his legs off the dining table and was up on his feet. His expression was thoughtful.

"Are you talking about him again?" The Shinigami Representative chuckled. His golden eyes followed Rukia's line of vision out the small kitchen window. Finding the person in question, Ichigo could only shake his head in disbelief. "There's nothing wrong about him, Rukia. Give him some time."

Wearing a Chappy apron over a white dress, her impish hair pulled up into a ponytail, and a frown, his wife turned and flashed disdainful violet eyes at her present husband. Rukia, formerly Kuchiki, now Kurosaki, put a hand on her hip and gestured wildly to the person outside. "Like hell I'll keep waiting! It's been fifteen years, Ichigo! Fifteen years-!"

By then, Ichigo had long shuffled into the living room beside the kitchen to return to his manga. His tone was of indifference. "Unless you're finally growing white hairs after those many centuries, I don't see any problem with being patient-"

"My son-!"

"- Our son…"

"Our son," Rukia spoke with such vigor in her voice. "Should have shown signs of being a shinigami by now, but he can't even see other spirits, for Christ's sake! He has both our genetics! I don't see how he couldn't end up a shinigami!" She suddenly slammed a hand on the tabletop. "Dammit, Ichigo! Don't ignore me-!"

"Well, someone's totally going through a mid-eternity menopause," Her husband smiled dryly. He thumbed to another page in his book. "Rukia, time and again, I will tell you to wait. He's only a teenager. He has his own problems at school. Being a shinigami will only toughen the load for him. Calm down. Do you want him to end up more like me?" He quirked an eyebrow. Rukia pulled a face, mortified. No, she sure as hell didn't.

Her shoulders slumped a little. Rukia flicked a glance back out the window. Their son was idly walking around the front yard. His hands were jammed into his dark sweatshirt. Rock music blared from the headphones that hung around his neck. He kicked a flower.

She exhaled noisily. "I want to, Ichigo, but our son… Ichiru… he told me that…" She hesitated. Ichigo took heed of this and lowered his manga once more. Rukia never hesitated. Not the strong woman she was then and today.

"He said that he never wants to be one," His wife muttered. "He doesn't want to be a shinigami, Ichigo. What am I going to tell nii-sama now? I was hoping that he would take Ichiru under his wing as an apprentice. He would have been a far better teacher than all the teachers at the Academy! But the boy just won't-!"

"- Won't what?" The backdoor slammed shut. Ichiru's voice was tilting dangerously towards anger. "Won't listen to you? Listen to you and be forced to be something I don't want to be? For what good reason?"

Their son stripped out of his sweatshirt and left it in a heap on the floor. A shock of raven black hair tumbled over his right eye and brushed against the back of his neck. His only unconcealed eye, the same hue as his father's, was packed with displeasure.

"I like being human! I like being normal!" He was visibly frustrated. "I don't want to carry the burden of other people's souls! I don't want my entire life to be on the edge! Don't you get it, yet? All those responsibilities belonged to you! You can't just push them on me because I happen to be your kid! I never chose to, okay?"

"Ichiru," Ichigo spoke with deliberate slowness. "Go upstairs."

"Not unless you two start to understand what I'm saying-!"

"Go upstairs, Ichiru Kurosaki," His father's voice became fierce. Ichiru blinked languidly and switched his attention from him to his mother.

Rukia was leaning against the countertop. Her hand was closed over her eyes to shield any emotion from revealing itself. Her other hand gripped her side tightly. The only aspect that gave away a true feeling was the trembling of her lower lip.

Ichiru was not sure if it was doing so out of sadness or rage, but he got the gist of Ichigo's words, and he escaped to his room on the second floor.

Once their son was out of sight, Ichigo released a sigh and tossed the manga over his shoulder. "All this drama is disturbing my reading time. I'll have to return it to Love later. I wonder if the creators made an anime for it…" He cast Rukia a lopsided grin. "Rukia, take it easy. The kid's in a rebellious phase. You can't also forget, Rukia… Ichiru's got hidden potential in him. He just needs to know that and use it to pave his future."

"No… it's… just that…"

"Huh?"

Rukia's hand slid away from her eyes. Ichigo saw the raw, unadulterated fury in those purple depths. "Why is Ichiru as stupid as you were back then? Honestly! It's a damn broken record-"

As his wife raved on and on comparing the mental intellect to her husband and her son, Ichigo could only smile on.

_I wonder how's life for everyone else…? Probably doing better than us… _

* * *

Ulquiorra twitched for the twelfth time in a row.

"Is something the matter with your eye, Master?" The butler asked at last. He extended a gloved hand towards him. The Fourth Espada narrowly avoided it (much to his internal surprise). Who the hell was this person? His speed in that insignificant action was faster than any lowly shinigami or mere Hollow could ever accomplish. It was Espada worthy.

… And the fact that this butler was referring him as Master…Ulquiorra opened his mouth to voice inquiries (or really, demands), but immediately closed it. His serpentine-green eyes darted upwards to the corner of his ceiling where a minute surveillance camera was planted. Shit. A certain foxed face shinigami could already be watching in- the humiliation… the raw, unadulterated shame of my entire near immortal life…!"I altered the cameras in your room."

The albino blinked and shot the butler an ice-glossed glare. "Hold your tongue… trash," His voice was cutting. Of course, albeit his exterior remained stoic as ever, he was secretly in confusion over the other's words. He altered them. He did something to them, but what?"I inserted footage of an empty room into all of them," The black-clad man answered nonchalantly. "We are completely invisible from unwanted eyes. I had also destroyed the wires that allowed us to be heard prior to my arrival… and I must say…" His burgundy eyes raked over everything in Ulquiorra's bedroom and out the window. "… Forgive my impoliteness, but this establishment… the environment… and the inhabitants here are… different than what I expected."

Even if what this butler said was true about the cameras (which Ulquiorra doubted), he would not give him the pleasure of hearing the Cuatra utter a word of curiosity directed to him.

Brushing aside the other man's silence, the butler went on with his judgment. He walked around the large, ivory room as he spoke. "I mean no offense, Master, but a dash of color here and there would certainly bring a charm to your chambers. The same could be said for the hallways… columns… oh, and that lovely throne I had the pleasure of passing by…"

There was a pregnant pause before the last comment clicked in the Cuatra's brain. A spasm seized Ulquiorra's insides. It took all his willpower not to physically throw a fit. "You… you took the route through the Throne Room?" He demanded, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Oh good grief…! "Was there a man seated in it?" Please, oh mighty Spirit King, put aside the fact that I sided with the man that wants to overthrow you and show some mercy! Ulquiorra would have preferred to die than to have his idol find out that this… problem in a black suit belonged to him.

The butler smiled. "Oh, yes, the gentleman with the red sash?" The digested Menos Grande in Ulquiorra's stomach did the most elegant of flips. "He was very courteous. Of course, I believed he mistook me for another individual named Aaroniero-" He tapped his chin thoughtfully with his finger.

Either Aizen's confinement was taking its toll on his sanity or Aaroniero finally groomed himself, Ulquiorra was unsure, but he was relieved to say the least. "Did anyone else come across your way here?"

The butler grimaced as though he ate something unpleasant. "Two more, Master. There was a… ah… gentleman with blue hair that had the most unrefined of tongues. The second was a tall man in the peculiar shape of a spoon that was accompanying him. They both also took me as this Aaroniero fellow."

"Good… good… this is good," The Cuatra sighed. "No one thought you were someone else at all?"

"None, Master."

Ulquiorra did not question the mental capacities of Grimmjow and Nnoitra this time. He understood perfectly well that the two would have the same chance at winning a battle as losing a game of wits. The albino began to tick off a list of ideas in his mind. What the hell was he to do with this guy? Should he cero his head and be done with it? Should he interrogate him? Should he even bother going through the hassle?"Master Ulrich?"

Ulquiorra snapped out of his brief stupor and glared at the butler. "Excuse me? What did you refer to me as?"

The man clad in black frowned. "Is that not your name, Master? Ulrich Schiffer?"

The albino straightened his posture and looked at the other almost haughtily. "I am the Cuatra Espada, Ulquiorra Schiffer," He said flatly.

The butler smiled enigmatically. "Of course," He said softly. "A new name, a new façade, a new beginning, isn't that so? Perhaps… it is better that you don't remember."

The Cuatra caught the butler's eye. His irises glittered like rubies for a split second. There was a sensation of an entity trickling inside him. It was warm yet ominous. A haze fell over his vision. Something was playing behind his eyes. A movie? No… a memory. A distorted one. Ulquiorra had seen this butler's face before. He… he could not put his finger on it.

Ulquiorra subconsciously touched the eye patch on his face. This thing…. The feeling of having it over his right eye once before…!

"Are you trying to recall the past, Master?" The butler's smooth baritone shattered the fuzzy memory in an instant. The albino's hand fell limp at his side again. His expression had darkened. "If," He began on a sharp note. "If I am your master, I order you to refrain from prodding me with meaningless queries."

The butler's smile quirked up even higher. He bowed. "Yes, my Lord." There was another stab of nostalgia into the Fourth Espada's mind. He ignored it and drifted over to his couch. He settled into its cold cushions and let his shoulders sag. He honestly couldn't care less about this new servant of his seeing him in this state. He was exhausted. One problem after the next…!

Sooner or later, Aizen would find out about the butler. Regardless if he was mad, the man was still genius. A genius with a deteriorating grip on reality. That was what everything had become now. Hueco Mundo was a farce of what it had been- what it could have been if he had intervened when Aizen most needed him most. All for what?

_All for that woman._

"Master?" The butler cocked his head in vague puzzlement as Ulquiorra cast a weary look in his direction. "Do you have a name?" The albino droned. "It would make life convenient if you had a name that I could order around."

The butler nodded. "I am Sebastian Michaelis," He said genially. "I am honored to be under your service, my Lord."

Ulquiorra inclined his head without another word. Sebastian Michaelis, hmm? Good grief, I wonder if I'm going insane. My old self would never accept a strange man into close proximities like this. He scoffed quietly and rested his chin on his elbow. He shut his eyes and allowed darkness to lull him to sleep. What have I got to lose? I have nothing now… and forever. She… she is gone from me…

Sebastian's smile faded as he watched slumber take his new- or rather, old master away. His expression was unreadable.

"It seems," He murmured, as he hunted for a blanket. "That Master Ulrich cannot find himself." He carefully draped an ivory comforter around the sleeping Ulquiorra. He bent close to the Cuatra until his lips brushed against the shell of his ear. The latter twitched, but did not wake.

"Our contract is still void until you can find your past self," Sebastian spoke in a soothing tone against the Espada's ear. He pulled back and smiled once more. "I can only hope that this time, seeing as you are a powerful soul without a body, a Hollow will not interfere again." His eyes sparked a demonic crimson. "A Hollow may have stolen you away from me once, but rest assured, I will finish what I started… and…" Slender, gloved fingers brushed a lock of ebony hair from Ulquiorra's pale face. "… I will take what is mine. The intense soul that is you right now… will be all mine. For now…"

Sebastian kissed the eye patch. "… I bid you good night, my Lord."

When the butler withdrew and gazed at that worn, slumbering, painfully familiar face… all he could see was the face of another master. He looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer.

__

* * *

A young boy, no more than thirteen, lay on his bed, staring out his bedroom window. His dark, sapphire blue eyes were glassy almost lifeless. He felt… empty inside. Void of any thoughts and feeling. Everything was cold. He was numb. Completely and inexplicably numb.

_There is something missing. _Yes, there was a feeling inside that demanded something be next to him. _Something… or…? _"Someone…" He whispered to himself. The boy racked his brain for that very someone. There… there was always a presence beside him. His mind's eye only saw a blur of black, white and red. Every single memory since that dreaded fire… it was as though some godforsaken being rubbed away parts of them. _Important _parts.

The boy closed his eyes.

_Remember, you fool! _He reprimanded silently. _Remember…! Remember…! _Sleep danced on the rim of delicate eyelids. They slowly slid down over perfectly identical blue eyes. _Dammit it all! _Ciel Phantomhive's fist thumped against a spare pillow uselessly. He was fucking sick of this. _Everything!  
_  
An angry teardrop rolled down the corner of his right eye. It left a cold stain on the sheets and a horrible sting in its wake.

* * *

Hovering above the boy's bed, a girl wearing a large hat and an unusually puffy dress surveyed his sleeping form. A pair of glittering red eyes hung over a crescent grin. "I _love _games, big brother…" She giggled softly.

* * *

**A/N: This story will snap from different POVs, but as the chapters progress they'll all mold together into one big mosaic. I think I made Ichigo too mature, but I didn't want him to be mindlessly reckless and stupid... err... well... he will have his "Isshin" bouts here and there...  
Rukia is mad at her (um- their) rebellious son. Hate or love Ichiru, I'm trying to give him personality. I read lots of IchiRuki love child fics and I wanted to stray from the usual "their-kid-accepts-everything-at-a-drop-of-a-flippin'-hat" kind of thing. I try to put myself in Ichiru's shoes and think... "Um... my parents are people that hunt monsters and risk their lives everyday... not to mention that my dad is the guy whose picture hangs on every Hollow's dartboard... and I live in the same house as them... uh..." Yeah. Exactly my point.  
"DID NYXSCUYLER JUST SUBTLY SLASH SEBASTIAN WITH ULQUIORRA? ZOMG. akdhalkdhasldad! WTF." Yes. Yes, I did people. Look forward to it.  
... Sad Ciel is sad. Mysterious person on top of his bed is mysterious. AND IS NOT GOING TO RAPE THE BISHIE. NO.**

READ AND REVIEW. :D


	6. Nostalgia

A/N: Alright, let it be officially known that I am a painfully slow updater. I usually switch back and forth from fanfiction to my original stories. Anyway, enough of that. Read on, dearies!

* * *

"_Ulrich, what is your impression of England?"__The rim of the teacup lingered close his pale lips, unsure whether to sip or set it down. With a sigh, he went with the latter for etiquette's sake. The sight of her radiant smile greeted him.  
__  
That afternoon, she was dressed in a lovely red gown_- robe à la francaise. _All thanks to her family's prestige.__Soft shades of red with darker tinted flowers were set against silk burgundy. Ivory lace burst from her elbows, hovering delicately over satin white gloves. A great deal of her already large bosom pressed stiffly against the constricting corset. Her orange hair was swept up into a high bun with pearls encircling it. They dangled beside the bouncing ringlets by her shoulder. This woman was the visionary of utter splendor and beauty. It made him feel painfully insignificant to be in her company._

_Ulrich pursed his lips. "Well… I have been here for but a short time," He replied hesitantly. "It would be unfair to pass sentence or form judgment." In truth, he loathed almost every aspect of the country, but he'd be a fool to voice that to his British beloved._

_She eyed her cup of untouched tea thoughtfully. "I see…" She murmured. Suddenly, her smile lit up again. "Ulrich!" She rose up to her feet, leaned over the patio table and grasped her fiancé's gloved hands. He flushed at her touch, but did not pull away. "I just remembered that Father-"_ Her_ father. "- Had given us permission to go to the theatre! Hamlet is to be staged! And… __a… And His Majesty, King George III is rumored to attend!" She squealed._

_Ulrich had to fight back the urge to smile. She was all too eager about such a trivial matter… or was she just eager to make_ him _happy? He inwardly sighed. Dark green eyes dimmed ever so slightly._Ah. Britain's unyielding adoration for their sovereign. It was almost endearing. Though… was she ignoring the fact that King George had gone mad? _Ulrich nodded slowly. "I'm sure it will be quite thrilling," He agreed. She laughed delightfully. _Maybe it will be the Regent Prince…

_"I'm so happy, I- _oh_!" In all her excitement, she had accidentally knocked over the teapot. The porcelain shattered against the stone tiles, caramel colored tea spreading into a small puddle. She covered her mouth in obvious distress. "Oh, no! I broke Mother's finest china! And this mess-!"_

_"- Allow me, my Lady."_

_A handsome, dark haired man, clothed in an ebony frock coat, waistcoat, breeches, and high, glossy boots, knelt on the floor and began to pick the glass shards. Glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. Ulrich found himself glaring at that man's head. He turned away from him without a word._  
_An ominous smile crept upon the servant's face. "Master…"_

_"… Master… _Master… Master Ulquiorra."

The Cuatra Espada stirred in his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes. A blur black gradually morphed into the shape of Sebastian Michaelis. He was gazing curiously into his face. An aroma of bitter sweetness suddenly wafted past Ulquiorra's nose. The woman's laughter rang in his ears. _Nostalgia._"I've prepared _Tieguanyin_ tea for you, my Lord," The butler said with a polite bow of his head. Ulquiorra wordlessly accepted the drink. He sipped it, mind still reeling from the dream.

"My deepest apologies…" Sebastian suddenly knelt before him on one knee. "I could not find a more suitable cup for such a refined beverage. I am not accustomed to… this… sort of place… ah… but…!" He lifted his head and smiled contritely at his master. "I am certain I will adapt."

The albino stared piercingly at him for a long time. He set the mug on the small table beside the couch with some force. The Oriental tea sloshed precariously at the rim of the cup.

Sebastian did not speak. His master was going to demand answers again. The action. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow. The narrowing of his eyes. The curl of his dark lips. These were signs of deliberation, mingled with a hint of contempt and distrust. _Well… these were what I taught myself to read…_"What is your relation to me?" Ulquiorra finally spoke. His voice was hollow.

"I am nothing more but your honorable servant. I live only to serve you"

"Why _me_?"

Sebastian did not reply. The Cuatra Espada inwardly smirked. He hit a soft spot. "This is an order, _honorable servant…_ tell me the truth and nothing _but _the truth. How did you enter Hueco Mundo? How could you possibly infiltrate Las Noches without being detected? How is… how is it that you are in these… _visions _I have? _What _are _you_?"

The butler's pale lips quirked upwards. "Master envisions me in his sleep?" His tone was teetering between innocence and mockery. (If that was even possible.) "I am flattered." The dullest shade of pink flared in Ulquiorra's pallid cheeks. It was a second too late to regain his composure. The butler had already heeded it. The Cuatra knew he did… after seeing that damn smile twitch further up.

"You-!"

There came a knock at Ulquiorra's door, followed by a drowsy voice. "Ulquiorra, we have a meeting with the old man," Stark's voice filtered into the room. Since his own chamber was down the hallway, the Primera Espada thought it polite to notify the Cuatra about the summits, seeing as he had to pass by the other's room anyway. "If you hurry up, I can go back to sleep- _urk!_" There was a scuffling noise outside and angry bark of, "lazy bastard".

Stark must have departed already, for his voice ("Dammit, Lilynette! This abuse of my balls has to come to an end!") was distant. Ulquiorra released a breath he hadn't realized he held. _Dammit it all. Having this butler around is more problematic than I thought. What should I do with him now? _The Cuatra contemplated stuffing Sebastian in a closet for eternity. He shook his head. _He'd obediently sit there with that smug grin on his pretty face._"Master Ulquiorra, shall I accompany you to this meeting?" Sebastian suddenly inquired.

_The sooner I'd agree to that, I'd long castrate myself, _the albino mentally growled. "No, you may not," He replied coldly. "You will remain in this room by my order. Is that clear? If, by any reason, someone enters this place while I am away, _you will hide yourself_."

The butler bowed. "As you wish, my Lord."

Ulquiorra did not doubt that this new servant of his would break that command. (He had gone as far as to demean himself about his compliance to him and all.) With an inward sigh, the Cuatra abruptly left; his psyche heavy with stress.

* * *

_In Karakura Town… _Ryuuken Ishida was scribbling rapidly at his documents. It was morning in Karakura Town, but already the doctor was returning to his work. He hadn't left the hospital actually. He had pulled an all-nighter for the sake of completing the task early. His already stress-lined face further crinkled with grogginess.

After finishing up one of the last papers, he leaned back in his leather chair, removed his glasses and exhaled noisily. He absently began cleaning the lens with the hem of his medical coat while staring out the window. Sunlight stung his eyes for a brief moment. He glanced at his silver wristwatch, eyes narrowing as he did. Someone was late…

The door in front of his slammed open almost on cue. "Director Ishida! Please excuse my lateness!" Ichiru Kurosaki burst into Ryuuken's office. He was breathing heavily. The older man could tell, from the thin smoke rising from the teen's sneakers and his unkempt dark hair even more messy, Ichiru had run here from the other side of town. _If he weren't the offspring of two shinigami, _then _I'd be surprised, _Ryuuken thought dryly.

"No, I will not pardon this, Kurosaki," He said, annoyed. "You told me you wanted to be a doctor when you stepped through those doors. I took you under my wing after you renounced your ties to shinigami. I believed you, but you have shown a lack of fulfillment in your duty as a medicinal man."

Flustered, Ichiru replied frantically, "But I've only been late twice, counting _right now_! Besides, you only let me be a volunteer!" His voice dipped down into a mutter. "It's not like I'm a real doctor yet… and you haven't taught me crap…"

"That is beside the point," Ryuuken retorted. "If you want me to treat you as a doctor then you should show the common courtesy of being one by at least arriving on time! Do you also want me to detail your deficiency in your studies?"

The infamous Kurosaki temper was boiling in the teen. "Dammit, Director! I'm not your son! I'm not a genius like him! I'm just a regular person!" He snapped. "Don't compare a _human _like me to _him_ of all people!"

At this, Ryuuken quieted down for a long time. His slender fingers gripped the arms of his chair tightly. Ichiru, realizing that he crossed too far, also fell silent. He looked away, embarrassed.

Finally, the older man spoke, his tone was low and grave. "Yes, you aren't Uryuu. I don't expect you to compete with him, Kurosaki. I only want to see incentive from you. Show me you're capable of being a doctor, then."

Ichiru smoothed down some unwanted spikes from his black hair while he grinned at Ryuuken. "Right, then! I'll show you! I'll be able to save lives! For those that are _living _and _breathing_! Not souls! I'll make my own impact in this world! And I won't need any shinigami power beside my own brain and two hands for that!" He proclaimed. His only revealing gold eyes shone with enthusiasm.

The Director of Karakura Hospital prodded his glasses. "How _inspiring_, Ichiru," The teen did not miss the sarcasm. His confidence dwindled down a notch. "Why don't you put that in helping Nurse Mayumi with the patients in the Elderly Services department?"

"What? But you know I can't handle _old people_! Last time, one of them attacked me with a cane! He thought I was a drug addict trying to force cocaine down his throat! I was only trying to give him his pills!"

"Perhaps you should tweak your clothing, fool. Eyeliner, chains and black are a sight for decrepit eyes, I heard."

"H… hey… that was going too far… anyway… if you'll excuse me…"

The teen turned to the door again. He had his foot outside before Ryuuken spoke one last time. "Watch your step today, Ichiru," He warned. "The spiritual levels are behaving strangely. A handicapped worker is of no use to me. Keep that in mind."

Ichiru blinked. "Honestly, Director, you sound like you actually _care_…!" He grinned, thoroughly amused. "Whatever. You're worrying about nothing! You told me I barely have a trace of shinigami _reiatsu. _It's not like I'm easy Hollow bait. Besides-!" He pulled out a small pouch with a kanji stamped on it from his pocket. "My gramps gave this to me. He told me it ought to ward off any lower ranked Hollows I might accidentally pass by. It's been helpful so far. It's the only thing I accepted from them that's non-human." He chuckled and shut the door behind him.

The doctor let out a sigh and slid his glasses back on. They glinted brightly. "Kids these days…"

* * *

"Young Master… _young Master… _wakey-wakey, young Master…!"

There was a gentle pat on Ciel's cheek. The boy moved away from it, irritated. It patting continued to pester him relentlessly. It suddenly turned into a pinch. He jolted up into a sitting position, dark hair askew, and eyes flying open. The first thing he saw was sleek, black hair and burgundy eyes.

"Se-!" The syllable for caught in his throat. For some curious reason… why did he expect a man to be standing beside his bed? It was not. It was, in fact, a young woman. A bonnet was fastened around her head with a black ribbon. There appeared to be more width to her red gown than necessary, giving her an illusion that a small whale was attached to her hips. Black floral designs were embroidered on the edges of her dress and around the square cut just above her creamy-white bosom. A cat pendant hung from a chain enfolded around her slim neck. She was giving him a weary look.

"Young Master," She scolded. "It is improper for a nobleman of your status to still be in bed at this hour!"

Ciel rubbed at his eyes. A wave of nauseous was swimming over him. His mind was disoriented. His stomach was making unpleasant cartwheels. "Sorry… I…" _What? Why am I apologizing to this person? I'm the Earl of Phantomhive! Who… Who _is _she?_"Miss Demetra!" Mey-Rin squealed, bursting into his room. "Bard's cooking went haywire! There's an inferno brewing in the basement! Help! Finny thought… thought that maybe putting wood on the fire would smother it but… but…!"

Ciel wanted to slap a hand to his forehead than moment. _Wait…! _His eyes (both_ of them?) _widened. _Demetra. Mey-Rin called this person Demetra. How does she know her? How does _she _know her and _I _do not?_"Eh?" This _Demetra_ gasped. "That stupid git! Doesn't he know it's suppose to be _coal_?" Once again, Ciel had the urge to gracefully face palm. _Who employed these stupid people? Oh, yes. _I _did. They say decisions reflect the person. Wonderful._"Demetra," Ciel acknowledged. It was odd saying her name on his tongue. His mind was telling him it wasn't his first time uttering it, but his heart was saying otherwise… screaming out that his brain was deceiving him. "What time is it?"

She turned back to him, eyes glinting in the light. A smile pulled at her lips. "It's eleven in the afternoon, young Master. You are four hours behind schedule. As your nanny, it would bring shame to my honor if all your tasks were not complete at the timely manner. Thus…!" The young Earl emitted a sound between a yelp and a shriek when Demetra promptly tore him from his bed, zoomed around the house while simultaneously doting on his necessities- and had him seated at his desk, fully bathed, clothes and fed in…

"Ten minutes," She chimed, eyes lingering on the grandfather clock. "Not my best."

Ciel was having a difficult time registering the last ten minutes in question. It was a blur to him. Either way…! With a frown, the boy shook it from his head. "You say you're my nanny?" He demanded. "I don't remember having one!"

Demetra looked at him for a minute as thought sizing him up. She giggled. "Silly young Master," She chided. "Do you have a bout of amnesia in your cute head? I've been your nanny for two years" She held up two fingers into a 'v'. "Just before the fire… the former Earl, Vincent Phantomhive had employed me. I was very, very sad when the mansion burned down. I was so hoping to play with you… everyone thought you were deceased along with your parents… or rumored to be missing…" Though the woman _seemed _upset, there was a twinkle in her faintly red eyes that appeared to be subtly mocking him.

"So, when _I_ found you in that dreadful house… oh, you were so lucky you weren't stabbed in the heart, young Master. I've heard cults make a mess of the organs afterwards." She smiled innocently as though she were chatting about the weather. Ciel closed his eyes and covered his face with his left hand. _Yes… there was… the fire… mother and father died… I… I was taken away… caged… lower than an animal… the already desecrated table… the men and women in red cloaks… their masks… the knife… falling… falling… screaming… blood… someone… _someone… _who?  
_  
The words "my Lord" reverberated in his head, pounding a migraine as they did. The person who spoke them… male? Female? Who? Who? _Who?_"Young Master…?" Demetra reached over to touch his shaking form. Her gloved hand was slapped away. Ciel was breathing raggedly. He was glaring at her through disheveled bangs. She was too stunned to pull back at first, but when she did, what he had done finally sank into him. His shoulders sagged. "Sorry…" He muttered. "I didn't mean to… strike a woman."

Demetra smiled again. "My big brother would have told you to be a more respectable English gentleman," She said airily. She curtsied deeply and went to leave the office. Ciel, a tad dizzy from his earlier fit, just barely caught her words. "You have a brother?" He asked vaguely.

She paused at the doorway. Then she turned back. A chill shot down the young Earl's spine. He went deathly still. Demetra's eyes were a glittering ruby. Her upper lips curled up, revealing a hint of fangs.

"Yes," She mused. "His name is Sebastian right now. Would you like to meet him some day?"

* * *

A/N: WOULD CIEL LIKE TO MEET HIM SOMEDAY? I _WONDER, _DEMETRA. I _WONDER. _Honestly, she is the most...! Gah. Well, I based her off my friend, Crystal. Appearance wise and personality wise. (Yes, if there was a fire in a house, Crystal would recommend throwing wood and/or coal into it. She actually did this with the doghouse when we were little. Don't ask.) Anyhoo, we see bits and pieces of Ulquiorra's human life with Sebastian. I'd put him in the mid-1800's or so. It would be before Queen Victoria (King George III's granddaughter) ascended the throne of Great Britain. (Sorry, I'm a history nerd.) CAN ANYONE GUESS ULRICH'S FIANCE? _ANYONE?  
_Oh, and the part with Ryuuken (ohmygosh,howIlovehimso) and Ichiru is significant. It shows Ichiru's admiration for him because he sees a person he wants to become. Intelligent. Steadfast. Sticking to his _own_ beliefs. And f-ing bad ass. Yes. The kid wants to be a doctor. Not a shinigami like his parents. He sure as hell acts like them a lot though... huh. Walking contradiction much. Oh, and Ryuuken really does care for Ichiru, but his tsundere complex (one that Uryuu inherited) prohibits him from actually expressing it. What he says at the near end is a foreshadowing. You'll see. ;)

READ AND REVIEW. I promise the next chapter to be full of wonderous surprises... and hints of slash.


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